


The Case of Courtship

by EbonyKnight



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Inexperienced Sherlock, M/M, Sherstrade Month 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9646757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonyKnight/pseuds/EbonyKnight
Summary: Greg is somewhat surprised by a proposal from Sherlock, who legs it when he misreads Greg's reaction.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. 
> 
> Written for Sherstrade Month 2017, day 9 prompt 'laboratory'.
> 
> Just to say that I am _loving_ this Sherstrade month. So many wonderful stories coming out for a brilliant pairing that does not get enough love. Am loving reading all of the work that's being generated. 
> 
> I've never really done insecure Sherlock before, because he comes across as very self-assured to me, but sometimes these things just write themselves, and this is what the prompt..well, prompted. He's not insecure as much as sulking, maybe. 
> 
> Anyway, really not sure what happened here, but it's been a difficult week and a bit of fluffy Sherstrade is necessary. 
> 
> Not beta'd so all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Any feedback is welcome :)

The lab door opened easily and Greg found Sherlock bent over a microscope, messy fringe obscuring his face and shirt sleeves rolled up to mid-arm as he studied a sample. “I have nothing for you yet, Detective Inspector,” he said, voice frigid, not looking up from the instrument. 

Greg closed the door quietly and stepped fully into the laboratory. It was a small one, tucked away at the end of a corridor in the bowels of Bart’s, but was positively bursting with impressive looking equipment. He didn't have a clue what any of it did but it certainly looked the part. “I’m not after results,” Greg replied, crossing the room in four strides. 

“In that case, piss off.” Sherlock’s whole body was so taught that it looked painful. He was still looking into the microscope, but Greg suspected that he was no longer seeing anything. 

Stopping in front of Sherlock’s workbench, Greg braced his weight on his hands and leant forward, right into the younger man’s personal space. “You can’t just say something like that and walk off, Sherlock. Generally, when a person says ‘it is my intention to court you,’ they stick around for the answer.”

“What would you have had me do? Stand around waiting patiently for you to let me down gently? There’s no need to look so surprised, Lestrade; your expression and body language communicated your thoughts with an eloquence your words can only aspire to.” Sherlock turned around, arms crossed over his chest, presenting his shirt-clad back to Greg. “I saved you the bother of needing to formulate an excuse, so if you would be so good as to pretend it never happened, I'd be very grateful. Close the door on your way out.”

Grateful for having had the time it had taken the homeless network to track Sherlock down to think, Greg stepped around the workbench until he was standing in front of the other man, knowing exactly what he wanted to say. “No, I’m not pretending it didn’t happen, and I’m not pissing off, either.” He crooked a finger and used it to lift Sherlock’s face. “You obviously don’t know me as well as you think you do, because I’m definitely not turning you down, you dolt. I know you think I’m an idiot, but I’m not that stupid.”

Many people thought Sherlock to be cold and emotionless, a machine capable of great feats of reasoning but incapable of human emotion. Greg, on the other hand, knew otherwise: Sherlock, when he chose to care, did so with a depth and intensity that was humbling. He felt emotions as deeply, if not more so, than anyone else in Greg’s acquaintance, even if they were not always wholly appropriate. At that moment, those emotions were visibly chasing themselves across his face, like headlines scrolling across the bottom of screen during the ten o’clock news, and it was only years of experience dealing with Sherlock that allowed Greg to read them properly. After a long moment the younger man looked up, grey eyes wary. “You are aware that I was not proposing a one off encounter, yes? I have very little experience in this particular field but would like a romantic relationship with you.”

Greg stroked Sherlock’s chin with his thumb, caressing the slightly stubbly skin. “I got that much. I hesitated because I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. You’ve tried it on before - loads of times - but you’ve always been high, so I thought it was just a sex thing and I won't do that. I’ve got my kids to think about, yeah? I can’t go bringing someone in who isn’t going to stick around, not after what happened with their mum. Anyway, we were standing over a dead body: it’s not exactly where I expect people to declare their intention to court me!”

Something relaxed in Sherlock’s expression and he smiled, a hesitant but warm quirk of his full lips. “I didn’t know how to approach you, but the book said that shared interests are a good starting point, and as we both enjoy a good murder—”

Greg laughed, cupping Sherlock’s cheek. “You daft sod. Look, I’ve not dated anyone since the nineties when I got with Jo, so I’m a bit out of practice, but I think we can dispense with the nineteenth century courtship books, yeah? We’ll work it out between us.”

Sherlock’s smile widened. “It wasn’t quite published in the nineteenth century, but I take your point.”

“So, we’re going to do this. You and me, us, a relationship?”

A warm feeling spread throughout Greg’s body when Sherlock nodded, hair swaying with the movement. “Yes, definitely.”

“Good,” Greg replied, leaning forward, closing the space between them until he could feel Sherlock’s hot breath on his face. “Do you want to do this properly, with romance and whatnot, or do you want our first kiss to be in a hospital lab?”

Sherlock’s response, a sweet, if slightly clumsy, meeting of lips was all the answer Greg needed.


End file.
